Healing
by drewandian
Summary: They're all broken; healing comes through friendship, with time.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclamer:** I don't own Criminal Minds or the characters, nor do I make money writing these fics  
**Summary:** They're all broken; healing comes through friendship, with time.

**A/N:** This is my first Criminal Minds fic. I've been a fan of the show for years, but only recently started watching it from the beginning (thank goodness for a library card and DVDs). I haven't been this into a show (or inspired to write fan fic) since my obsession with Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis. It feels good to be back to writing!

**~The greatest healing therapy is friendship and love~ Hubert H. Humprhey**

This case had been an especially difficult one for the team, JJ mused, glancing around the cozy bar at her teammates – her family. The unsub had been targeting little boys the same age as Jack, and this closed to the anniversary of Haley's death, it had almost been too much for them to bear.

But her family was strong, and they'd held each other up, apprehending the unsub just in time to stop a fourth murder. The poor little boy had a long, hard road of healing ahead of him, but just like this team, he had family to see him through it.

JJ took a long drink of her beer and watched her friends a little more closely. Each one so unique, right down to their chosen coping methods.

She watched as Rossi sat at the bar, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, a woman closer to JJ's age than his unabashedly flirting with him. There was little doubt where Dave would seek solace and comfort tonight, JJ thought with a smirk.

Her gaze slid to Reid, beer long forgotten as he spoke quickly, gesturing wildly, undoubtedly regaling the growing crowd with some obscure facts about why pick-up lines work, no matter how cheesy they are. He was completely oblivious to the no less than five women who slid him their numbers. Facts and figures brought Spence comfort – unchanging in a world wrought with chaos.

JJ turned her attention to Garcia. True to form, she was perched on a stool, fruity umbrella drink clutched in both hands as she watched the crowd – or more specifically one Derek Morgan – bumping and grinding to the bass-laden music. The images that came across their desks affected Penelope Garcia more profoundly than the rest of them, but she put them in boxes and hid them under online gaming, graphic novels or whatever else it was Garcia did in their down time. JJ grinned as Garcia whistled long and low at Morgan, who winked at her with a shrug.

Morgan was in his glory, surrounded by gorgeous women, dancing his frustrations away. He would leave that dance floor with his pockets full of phone numbers and his cheeks stained with lipstick. He might call one or two of these women of the course of the next few weeks, but it would never become anything more than a fling. Derek knew all too well how the job could destroy those who didn't understand it and couldn't justify exposing anyone to that danger. He had watched it tear Hotch's marriage and family apart and wasn't interested in sharing that experience. He would keep on finding comfort in chance encounters and witty banter with Garcia.

JJ looked across the table at Hotch. Stoic as always, the shadows in Aaron Hotchner's eyes brought tears to JJ's. Hotch was the job, always had been, and as such had lost almost everything to it. His stoicism had served well to protect him for years; he had built walls that he'd been sure would keep him and his family safe – even after the divorce. The events of that fateful day a year ago had brought those walls crashing down, obliterating their illusion of safety and security. The past few days, even knowing Jack was safe, had nearly destroyed him.

Now, beer forgotten in front of him, Hotch stared, unseeing, ahead, lost in memories that would haunt him for the rest of his life. JJ sighed, wishing there was some way to bring some comfort to her friend, when it happened. It was subtle, and fleeting, but for a split second, the shadows cleared and a light came to Hotch's eyes again.

JJ turned to follow his gaze and let out a quiet chuckle when it led right to Emily Prentiss.

Prentiss was on the dance floor with Morgan, ignoring the men around her and simply enjoying the pulse of the music. She'd one confessed to JJ and Garcia that the only thing more soothing to her soul than a good bass line was hot, angry sex. Judging from the way she was dancing with Morgan, JJ was pretty sure Prentiss hadn't had the latter recently. Or hadn't deemed any of the men vying for her attention as worthy.

Now that she thought of it, JJ realized that Prentiss hadn't found anyone worthy in quite some time…at least two years now.

JJ looked back at Hotch, noting that he kept his eyes on Emily over the rim of his mug as he took a long drink. It was almost like he couldn't pull his gaze from her. JJ took another sip of beer to hide her smirk and sat back to watch things unfold.

On the dance floor, Prentiss laughed as Morgan pulled her tightly into him. It was a game they'd been playing for years and it never ceased to amuse her. Morgan would pull her in, helping her avoid any unwanted advances (and for the past two years they were all unwanted) and driving the women fighting for prime dancing space with Morgan crazy. It typically resulted in Morgan going home with the most persistent and Prentiss going home alone, which suited her just fine.

JJ and Garcia had given up questioning her about their game, although Garcia still wondered, out loud and often, how Prentiss could wrap herself around that gorgeous chocolate god and not leave the bar more wound up and frustrated than when she arrived. Prentiss simply smiled and said the music loosened her up and that was all she needed.

Her friends didn't believe her.

Hotch watched Morgan pull Prentiss close, took in the long lines of her neck as she threw her head back and laughed. He envied their closeness – not the psychical closeness, but the emotional connection they had that allowed them to wrap themselves around each other with such abandon.

He had never been so free with anyone – not since the early years with Haley. There wasn't a day that went by, even now, that he didn't think about Haley and the promise he made to her just before she died.

A promise he hadn't really kept.

He told Jack the stories of his mom, of how they met. He showed Jack unwavering and unconditional love. But he hadn't loved openly or freely. He continued to be guarded, to try to protect his heart. Not to care too much, because it always lead to being hurt again.

And it was slowly killing him inside.

JJ turned, wanting to say something comforting to Hotch, as he stood up, empty mug in hand. He gave JJ a small nod and headed to the bar for another beer. JJ was about to stand up and join him when she saw Prentiss untangle herself from Morgan and head toward Hotch. JJ walked over to Garcia and gave her a nudge, nodding Hotch's direction. They had been waiting for something to happen for years and it looked like Hotch was finally going to find a new, more effective coping mechanism.

They watched as Hotch ordered himself a second beer, and as Prentiss talked him into doing a shot. JJ grimaced slightly on his behalf as she watched them shoot back the tequila; it had never been her favorite and she always hated when it was Prentiss's turn to buy the round. JJ's blue eyes widened as Prentiss took her beer in one hand, Hotch's hand in the other, and led him out to where she had left Morgan.

"Uh, Jayje?" Garcia squeaked. "What's she thinking? Hotch hasn't danced since – "her voice trailed, cracking as she added "well, since Haley."

"I know. But maybe she's onto something. It's well past time for him stop blaming himself, to cut himself some slack. He's been about the job and Jack for so long that he's starting to shut us all out. It's time to remind him that he can't." JJ pulled Garcia from her bar stool and dragged her out to the dance floor.

Prentiss turned toward Hotch and put her hand at his hip, pulling him into her just as Morgan had done to her earlier, drawing a chuckle from him. She grinned at the sound, causing JJ and Garcia to exchange a "ha! We knew it!" look.

JJ thought back to the various girls' nights they'd spent dishing on the men in their lives – recalling just how Emily's face would flush at the mention of Hotch's name. How she would grudgingly agree with Garcia's opinion of Morgan's godlike stature, only to follow up with a declaration of her attraction to subtle strength and the appeal of the strong, silent type.

JJ and Garcia had known for years that Hotch was the reason Emily always clung to Morgan on the dance floor and went home alone.

It was no surprise, really, that she was finally doing something about it.

The real surprise was that not only was Hotch letting her, he was clearly enjoying himself! That was a twist neither woman saw coming.

Prentiss's heart raced as she leaned into Hotch, the thudding of the bass pushing her on. She could always blame the tequila later, but right now she didn't care. She was tired of watching Hotch sink deeper and deeper into the darkness. He'd been pulling away from them this past year and if he wasn't careful, he'd pull away from Jack, too. And she wasn't about to sit idly by and watch him lose everything.

It was time for Aaron Hotchner to find a new, more productive way to cope. And God help her, she wasn't backing down until he did.

Hotch could feel Prentiss's hand on his hip, burning warm through his shirt. It had been years since he'd been on the dance floor, felt the soft curves of a woman pressed against him. He had been keeping everyone at an arm's length, believing that doing so would keep him from losing what little he had left. It had become his coping mechanism and it was slowly draining him. He was starting to think that Prentiss and Morgan were onto something, letting go and getting close. Seeking comfort from one another, not isolating themselves.

He handed his beer off to JJ, taking Prentiss's and passing it off, too. Hands on her hips, he pulled her in close again, reveling in the feel of her, soft and warm, melting into him. Even in the fog he'd been walking through this past year, she hadn't gone unnoticed by him. He'd stood on regulations and fraternization rules, telling himself it was the right thing to do for their careers; going on the belief that he was protecting them both. Now, holding her, dancing with her, he couldn't remember why he'd waited so long to let her in.

The thought crossed his mind that this probably wasn't the best coping mechanism, but he figured he could always blame the tequila later.

For now, he was going to enjoy being close, not just physically, but emotionally too, to his team. His family. All broken, all healing. And doing it all together, holding each other up.

JJ met Hotch's eye and grinned. It had been a long time coming, but she couldn't have been more thrilled that her friends were finally beginning to heal; finally coming together. Hotch raised an eyebrow at her, flushing slightly before dipping his head down say something in Prentiss's ear. JJ's grin widened as Prentiss threw her head back and laughed, a flush to match Hotch's spreading across her cheeks.

This last case had been hard; this past year had been all but unbearable. But the fog was lifting, they were moving on. And were coming back stronger than ever. Of that, JJ could be absolutely sure.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I usually wait until I have a fic finished before I post it, but I'm working on my masters degree (I have one final and six weeks to go!) and am afraid that if I wait to finish it, I won't ever finish. I think if I post as I finish each chapter, it'll keep me motivated to keep going. So hang in there and be patient with me, there will be more, and soon! Thanks for reading and reviewing! :)**

Chapter Two

The thudding bass gave way to sultry tones, drawing a wide grin from Morgan. He pulled Garcia to him, pulling her close as she giggled at him. Only Penelope would choose TLC on the juke box; it was a joke she and Morgan had shared for years. A throwback to adolescence when life should have been simpler. At least the music had been fun.

None of them had had the brightest childhood, each suffering some loss or trauma that had led them here. Garcia was determine to create positive memories, one retro '90's tune at a time and Morgan loved her all the more for it.

Prentiss felt her cheeks flush at the first strains of the song, not sure if she wanted to curse Penelope or kiss her. She knew she was walking a fine line, hovering at the point of no return.

If she let him pull her close – and God how every cell in her body was begging for him to – she wouldn't be able to hold back. His hands at the small of her back were already stretching her self-control to its limits.

Their eyes met and the fire she saw burning in his melted away what was left of her self-control. She had never had such an intense heat focused on her, not like this, not from someone she already cared so deeply about.

Shushing that little voice in her head that was telling her that this could be a big mistake, Emily closed the small space between them pressing her body to Hotch's.

Hotch's right hand pressed more firmly into her back as his left hand came up to tangle in her hair. Her right hand snaked its way up to rest on his shoulder, her fingers lightly, mindlessly caressing his neck. She rotated her hips against his slowly, easily falling into the slow roll of the music.

He moaned lightly, matching her movements with his hips. She let out an undignified squeak of surprise; she never in a million years would have guessed stoic, serious SSA Aaron Hotchner, lead agent of the BAU could move like that.

Hotch smirked at her squeak and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off of his face. In the most creative way possible.

She pressed her body even tighter into his, her heart racing. Her heels gave her enough added height that all she had to do was turn her head and she could brush her lips against his neck. This realization alone elicited a response from her body, and the room, the team, everything faded until all that was left was the two of them and the music.

Emily had been carrying a flame for Aaron Hotchner for over a decade. She'd met him while she was still at Yale, back when he smiled more. She'd been immediately drawn to the dimples and the mischievous sparkle in his hazel eyes. She hadn't missed, however, the thin band he wore on his left hand; she had always been rebellious, with a wild streak she fought hard to control, but she still held firm to morals and values and marriage vows were a line she would never cross.

She'd gone back to school that fall still burning for Aaron, a fire that drove her to work harder so that she could finish school and put even more distance between them.

With time and her work with the CIA, that fire died to nothing more than smoldering embers. She kept tabs on his career for a while, but lost track of him when she went on what ended up being her final undercover assignment.

His was the last name she'd expected to see on her transfer papers. Strauss had forced her onto Hotch's team, hoping she'd bring the unit chief down, totally unaware of Emily's past with him. The minute his eyes met hers, that ember roared to life, the flame burning bigger and brighter. Except he didn't trust her, or know her really, anymore; and he still wore that damn ring.

So she did what every good agent and profiler did and she boxed away that flame and did her job. She did her best to be supportive from a distance, first through the divorce and then the ordeal with Foyet. She allowed herself to get a little closer after Haley's death, knowing he believed she did it for Jack. The flame grew brighter as he slowly pushed everyone away.

She was sure he'd never had any idea, and it slowly consumed her.

And here they were tonight, pressed to one another with reckless abandon. Shutting out the world, letting their walls crumble, not considering what the consequences may be.

Emily just knew that she couldn't fight it anymore. Hotch had given her an inch when he'd let her lead him to the dance floor and she was going to take a mile. She'd, they'd, deal with the fall out later.

Still blissfully oblivious to everyone and everything around them, they danced.

She gave in to the desire and curiosity she'd stamped down for so long and brushed her lips ever so gently against his neck, grinning when she heard him gasp.

He brought his lips to her ear, whispering a lust laden "hey now" into it. She shuddered and felt him grin against her hair.

"Oh, Hotch, "she whispered back, "I'm just getting started." She pressed her hips harder into his, her brown eyes widening when she felt the way his body was responding to hers. She'd known for a while that he'd felt something deeper for her than he had when she'd first joined his team, but had never entertained the idea that he'd feel anything close to what she did for him.

She knew he'd loved Haley deeply, the unwavering love of high school sweethearts who had grown up together. She knew he still loved her, even a year after her death, and knowing this had never allowed herself to over-analyze the lingering glances across the table, the fact that he often sat next to her on the jet, allowing her to use his shoulder as a pillow after an especially grueling case, or how his fingers would brush hers, seemingly innocent and unintentional, when he handed her a cup of coffee or a pen.

Some profiler she was. Everything about him and his behavior tonight pointed to hundreds of missed signs over the years.

That flame rekindled, roaring to life and burning up all of her pretty little boxes.

Emily's hands found their way to his shoulders, trailing slowly down over his chest as they continued their slow sensual dance.

Hotch's left hand continued to tangle in her hair, caressing the silky strands, as his right hand snaked under the hem of her t-shirt, tracing small circles on the smooth skin.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her breathing becoming quick and erratic as she breathed him in. She could feel and hear his breathing speed up as he buried his face in her hair.

She felt like she was on fire and barely noticed when the last bit of her self-control snapped. She brought her right hand up to cup Hotch's face, turning just enough to press her lips to his with a whisper of a kiss.

She groaned when he pressed back just a little bit harder. She hesitated for a split second before a sense of urgency took over. She returned his pressure, her tongue darting out, seeking entrance. Hotch's hand tightened in her hair, holding her face to his as he opened up to her.

Morgan and Garcia stopped dancing and simply grinned at the pair. Rossi chuckled, his drink hovering midway to his lips. Even Reid, typically oblivious, noticed, his hands stopping mid-flail as he gaped at the couple making out on the dance floor.

JJ couldn't help but grin at her friends. She knew Emily would try to blame the alcohol tomorrow; she also knew that her incredibly private friends would be mortified if someone didn't stop them before they fell head first into the haze of lust and mutual attraction.

She cleared her throat and gestured to Morgan, imploring him to move in and cool things down. He rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. He knew what JJ was thinking and he agreed. But he also knew that Hotch needed this and that Emily had waited too long for him to get here.

And he knew they'd both reign it in before it got completely out of hand. They were masters of self-control and self-deprivation.

Just as Morgan expected, the pair pulled apart, just enough to breathe. They stood forehead to forehead, panting slightly, barely moving. The song changed, a bass line thumping away again, pulling them both back to where they were.

Emily started to pull back, suddenly very aware of the team's eyes on them. She squeaked when Hotch grabbed her hips, keeping her close. She pulled her head back to meet his eyes, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Wait." His voice was raspy and just a little breathless and she couldn't help but grin. She did that and the realization of the power she held over him heady and intoxicating.

"Problem, Agent Hotchner?" she murmured, her voice deep and husky, as she rotated her hips against him.

His grip tighted almost painfully; later she'd find faint bruises from his fingers on her hips. "No, Agent Prentiss, no problem. But we should get out of here before there is." He growled, pressing into her.

She moaned lightly, her knees going weak at the feel of his erection, obvious even through his clothes, pressed against her.

He could see the wheels turning in her head as she worked out how to get out as quickly as possible.

In the end she realized that discretion and stealth were pointless – they'd all seen the kiss and even Reid knew what comes next. She simply grabbed his hand and led him out of the bar.

Emily stopped short when they reached the curb; Hotch ran into her, catching her just before she tumbled into the street.

She turned to face him worrying her lip, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I didn't drive." She blurted out. "JJ did. She knows that I have a tendency to have a few too many after these kinds of cases – the ones with kids – so she always drives –"she rambled, suddenly nervous.

"It's ok. I did." She started to object; he'd been drinking too. "Prentiss, it's fine. I can drive. My place isn't far from here."

This time, it was Hotch who took Prentiss' hand, and dragged her off in the direction of his car.


	3. Chapter 3

Emily settled into the passenger seat, her hand trembling slightly as she buckled her seat belt.

Out here, away from the music and their team, the reality of the kiss they'd shared and what they were about to do settled in.

Emily felt like her nerves were being stretched tight, her feelings raw and exposed. This was either going to be just what they needed or a colossal mistake. Either way, once that line was crossed nothing would ever be the same again.

Hotch slid behind the wheel, their eyes meeting as he leaned over to buckle his own seat belt. He saw the hesitation and touch of nervousness in Emily's eyes, felt the tension radiating off of her and smiled softly.

He rested his right hand gently on her knee, maintaining constant contact as he guided the car back to his townhouse.

The idea that confident, sure-of-herself Emily Prentiss was nervous amused Hotch. He'd never known her to be hesitant; she was more likely to follow her gut and charge in, guns blazing and damn the consequences.

He wasn't sure he was interested in examining what exactly her hesitation meant. He simply wanted to allow them this opportunity to finally explore what they'd both been fighting for so long. They could worry about the "what now?" later.

Aaron Hotchner was not an impulsive man. Every action, every choice, every word was weighed heavily. Too much was left to chance when you didn't think before you spoke or acted. Too much potential for everything he'd sacrificed for to fall apart if he acted on impulse. Foyet had taught him that. He'd lost so much and could have lost everything to Foyet and his inability to control his temper and impulses.

Now, more than ever, every move, every word was weighed and considered. Hotch knew that his team, Emily, thought that this was sudden and spontaneous. But Hotch had been thinking about this, considering what Emily Prentiss was coming to mean to him, for years.

He'd had every intention of going to her on the dance floor tonight. The fact that she'd come to him, had made the first moves, simply confirmed what he'd suspected from the day he'd met her.

Aaron had been very taken with Ambassador Prentiss' eighteen year old daughter. Emily had been fearless even then, full of spit and vinegar and ready to leave behind her privilege and take on the world.

Hotch had noticed how Emily had always been a little more cautious around him, both when they'd first met and again later when she'd joined his team.

Then he and Haley had fallen apart and Emily had been there, still just out of reach but a constant source of support and comfort.

He hadn't been surprised that hers was the first face he'd seen when he'd woken up in the hospital, abdomen on fire and head foggy.

And then again, after Haley. Only she had been coming closer, saying it was for Jack.

But Hotch knew – he'd always known – and he'd found little ways to show her. Whether he'd been too subtle or she'd put up walls, afraid to let hope creep in, he didn't know.

All he did know was that for a world-class profiler, Emily seemed pretty clueless.

Not that he was any better. He had faced his worst nightmare and while he'd lost Haley in the process, he'd still managed to stay strong and unwavering til the end. Once those deep brown eyes met his, however, his body reacted and he couldn't think past his need for more of her. It was well past time to do something about it.

He glanced over at her, squeezed her knee gently to get her attention. She raised her head to meet his eyes and smiled sheepishly.

"Where'd you go?" he asked quietly, pulling into a parking spot.

She looked down at his hand on her knee, could feel the warmth of it through her jeans. She ran a finger over his knuckles, the contact making her burn again.

Her thoughts had wandered, the part of her brain that was all logic (the part she, admittedly, often ignored) screaming to slow down and reconsider. Pointing out that while she'd had a wild and tumultuous past, Hotch had not. At least not to her knowledge. Besides, that voice continued, she knew this would be different than so many – most if not all in fact – of those other encounters had been.

She was playing with fire and, she realized, couldn't stop herself.

Emily looked up slowly, tearing her eyes away from his hand on her knee. Her eyes met his and she smiled embarrassedly.

"Nowhere in particular." She blushed, still absent-mindedly running her fingers over his knuckles. His hand tightened on her knee, his eyes burning into hers.

Hotch turned slightly in his seat, cupped Emily's cheek with his left hand. He leaned in, kissing her, gently at first, just enough to bring her back. Just enough to make her burn again. She leaned into him, kissing him back harder.

Emily shifted in her seat, working his tie loose and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt, baring his neck to her.

She nibbled her way along his jaw and down his neck, smirking against it when he groaned.

She turned more in her seat as his hands tangled in her hair, drawing her lips back to his, kissing her deeply. He held her to him, his hands twisting her hair until it was almost painful.

She moaned against his mouth, opening up to him. She all but melted when his tongue darted between her teeth, thoroughly plundering and exploring.

Emily leaned further into Hotch, turning in her seat, catching the gearshift with her hip.

"Mmmm ow!" she exclaimed, regretfully breaking their contact. She chuckled, rubbing her side. "I may be a bit too old for making out in the car."

Hotch smirked at her, takin in the flush of her cheeks and the sparkle of her big brown eyes.

"I do have a townhouse here, you know."

Hotch unlocked the door and gestured for Emily to enter first. She'd been here before, but never like this; it was surreal.

She closed the door as he reset the alarm. She knew now it was more out of habit – his monster was gone- but didn't say anything.

She had just finished sliding the dead bolt into place when she felt him press into her back, pinning her between the door and himself.

He pushed her hair aside, baring her neck to his lips, teeth and tongue. Her skin was smooth and soft, warm. He felt her pulse quicken beneath his lips, smiled against her neck when she moaned, melted back into him.

He kissed just behind her ear and her knees went weak. Hotch caught her, his hands holding her hips firmly, keeping her in place.

His hands slid under her shirt, caressing her soft skin as she pushed back against him, trying to turn in his embrace to face him.

He murmured "no" in her ear, his right hand sliding up her stomach to cup her breast over her bra as his left hand moved to unbutton her pants and slide inside.

Without thought, Emily widened her stance, gasping when his fingers made contact with her skin. The gasp gave way to a low moan when he slid his finger over her, teasing the sensitive skin.

Her head fell forward, her forehead pressed to the door as her breathing sped up.

Hotch brought his lips back to her neck, two fingers sliding into her. She pressed back into him, moaning again, and his self-control snapped.

This wasn't exactly how he'd planned to do this – he'd intended to take his time and savor every moment – but the throaty moans and the feel of her, already so hot and wet, drove him right over the edge.

He pulled away enough to move his pants and boxers out of the way, chuckling when Emily whimpered at the loss of contact.

Her whimper turned into a gasp when he roughly pushed her pants and thong down enough to give him access to her.

His hands found their way back to the smooth skin of her stomach as he pressed his hips into her. He hesitated for a split second, sliding into her when she cried "God, Hotch, c'mon!"

Hotch gripped Emily's hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and unable to hold back, plunged into her. She hissed as she felt herself stretch to accommodate him.

She braced her hands on the door frame, angling her hips back toward him. He kept his firm hold on her hips, pumping into her rough and fast. He snaked his left hand around her hip to tease her clit, pushing her over the edge quickly, his own release following just seconds after.

He collapsed into her back, pressing her into the door. Her legs were weak and she was glad for the added support as they panted, gasping for air and grasping for control.

"I'm sorry." He murmured into her ear, sending a shiver through her. "That wasn't exactly how I'd planned this."

Emily chuckled quietly, shaking her head slightly. "Years, Hotch. It's been years since I've had sex that didn't require batteries." She grinned when she felt a quiet laugh rumble through his chest.

She wriggled her clothes back into place and turned to face him. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him softly. "It was perfect. You are perfect – and human. It's ok." She kissed him again. "I realize that may come as a shock to you –"she teased, squeaking when he pulled her close and kissed her, hard.

He turned her away from the door, leading her into the townhouse and down the hall, never breaking the kiss.

"Still" he said, kissing her neck, "I can do better." A shiver ran through her body and she moaned.

"I don't know, "she gasped as he kissed that spot behind her ear again. "Prove it."


End file.
